Absolute Beginners
Fabrizio Terranova
A delicate and very touching film about the art of consciously feeling and enjoying life despite a fatal disease that changes everything. Carpe diem.
D
Film Archive
Absolute Beginners
If you’re not affected you have probably never heard of Huntington’s disease. But the hereditary genetic defect changes absolutely everything: the ability to control one’s body, contact with one’s soul, moods and emotions, the level of available energy … and last but not least the relationships with loved ones. There is no cure to date, but a test to find out before the outbreak of the disease whether you carry this genetic mutation.
The six people who very emotionally and honestly talk about their lives here have all tested positive, though they are at different stages of the disease. For fear of social ostracism, some of them only speak anonymously in front of the camera. Not all of them are ready yet to “show face” and admit to having the disease, which to outsiders often looks like severe dementia or a mental handicap, although every one of the persons who offer insights here impressively disproves such popular misunderstandings. What emerges clearly is that, when faced with incurable disease, we are always also faced with the question of how we can integrate the risk of mortality into our concept of life. Upon closer examination, though, this philosophical problem concerns each of us. A cinematic carpe diem and an ode to life.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
The six people who very emotionally and honestly talk about their lives here have all tested positive, though they are at different stages of the disease. For fear of social ostracism, some of them only speak anonymously in front of the camera. Not all of them are ready yet to “show face” and admit to having the disease, which to outsiders often looks like severe dementia or a mental handicap, although every one of the persons who offer insights here impressively disproves such popular misunderstandings. What emerges clearly is that, when faced with incurable disease, we are always also faced with the question of how we can integrate the risk of mortality into our concept of life. Upon closer examination, though, this philosophical problem concerns each of us. A cinematic carpe diem and an ode to life.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
After the Silence
Sonam Larcin
How do coming out and applying for asylum fit together? Better than feared in this film by Sonam Larcin. The story of a slow arrival, in warm tones and tender gestures.
After the Silence
“Tell me your story” – a request that should please anyone. A difficult one, though, when it’s directed at a young man in a Brussels office who is looking for asylum and has never admitted his homosexuality to anyone in his entire life. But it may also be an opportunity. And a good premise for telling the story in front of a film camera. A film about a slow arrival, in warm tones and tender gestures.
Silvia Hallensleben
Silvia Hallensleben
Big Wolf & Little Wolf
Rémi Durin
The big wolf leads a contented life. Until one fine morning the little wolf turns up and moves in with him.
Big Wolf & Little Wolf
The big wolf leads a contented life: He reads books under his tree, grumbles over bills and listens to music, quite undisturbed. Until one fine morning the little wolf turns up and moves in with him. The little wolf listens to his records, turns the newspaper into paper planes and, to top it all, snores. The big wolf doesn’t need this kind of companionship. Or does he?
Marie-Thérèse Antony
Marie-Thérèse Antony
Erpe-Mere
Noemi Osselaer
A village portrait that resembles a documentary nocturnal walk through the dreams of strangers. The joy of optical illusions is combined with humorous editing here.
Erpe-Mere
Documentary Film
Belgium
2019
21 minutes
subtitles:
_without dialogue / subtitles
A film portrait of the Flemish village of Erpe-Mere which – starting from the visible world – takes us to other layers of perception. Where tractors roar and whining engines race over the motocross track by day, at night a different world comes alive. We are drawn into a universe that doesn’t follow the laws of logic but those of dreams. A Méliès-like joy of optical illusions is coupled with humorous editing.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
I Feel Your Eyes
Grégoire Verbeke
A dusty plain, as smooth as a sheet of paper, with a horse and rider on it, as fast as an arrow, almost weightless. But this is only training; the big race is yet to come.
I Feel Your Eyes
Documentary Film
Belgium
2019
25 minutes
subtitles:
English
A dusty plain, as smooth as a sheet of paper. A desert landscape that might as well be a moonscape, especially when a horse and rider dash along the horizon, almost weightless, so fast that suddenly even the camera, equally unimpressed by gravity, can’t follow. But this is just training; the big race is yet to come. The people around the horse are getting more nervous every day. The dark shining horse on the other hand stays cool.
Lukas Foerster
Lukas Foerster
Insectopedia
Antoine Fontaine
600 film reels of insect recordings – a flea market find leads to the psychological study of a Brussels surgeon and a type of man who shares his habitat with audibly scurrying chitin carapaces.
Insectopedia
Documentary Film
Belgium,
France,
Portugal
2018
23 minutes
subtitles:
English
Over 36 years, an unmarried surgeon filmed and dissected insects in his Brussels apartment. 600 reels of wonderful, obsessively precise recordings and increasingly confused commentary paint a strange psychological profile. During his research on Dr. Veroft, Antoine Fontaine comes across a species of man whose social behaviour is conspicuously focused on six-legged creatures and who share their habitat with audibly scurrying chitin carapaces and Darth Vader figurines.
André Eckardt
André Eckardt
Int. Anouchka – Night
Louise Hansenne
Anouchka talks about her long-term alcohol addiction, which she tries to overcome in an autofictional screenplay. Reading, speaking and first person narrative gradually begin to mix.
Int. Anouchka – Night
Documentary Film
Belgium
2019
20 minutes
subtitles:
English
Anouchka is thirty and a scriptwriter. She earns her living in a bar. For this short film she wrote an autofictional scenario about her long-term alcohol addiction. The film title takes up the scene titles used in screenplays: “Interior. Anouchka – Night.” The setting: Anouchka reads her text in a nocturnal studio and discusses it with the director. Gradually, reading and speaking are beginning to mingle with her first-person narrative.
Annina Wettstein
Annina Wettstein
Little Man, Time and the Troubadour
Ineke Smits
A road movie in Abkhazia: The puppet artist Sipa Labakhua meets Georgian peasants, Orthodox priests, Abkhazian nationalists, Syrian refugees – and confused identities.
Little Man, Time and the Troubadour
“We didn’t care about nationality,” says an elderly lady. She is showing the house where she lived with her children as a young woman to her friend and the camera crew. The school was right around the corner. Everyone lived harmoniously door to door here: Armenians, Georgians, Abkhazians, Mingrelians. Until the war came. Everyone who could afford it fled. To Russia, to Turkey, to Georgia. Abkhazia, which considers itself a state, lies in the south of the Caucasus and borders on the Black Sea. Under international law the country belongs to Georgia, but has the status of an autonomous region.
The Abkhazian artist Sipa Labakhua has returned home after many years and now tours the country with his autobiographical puppet show. He tells of his own experiences, his flight, his father’s dreams – and collects more stories on his journeys: of Georgian peasants, Orthodox priests, Abkhazian nationalists, Syrian refugees and Russian hippies. The result is the poetic image of a society that couldn’t be more diverse and that is asking itself an essential question that concerns us all: How do you define the national and cultural identity of a country? Sipa Labakhua has a very original answer: He sees himself as a troubadour, his art as his country and his talent as his home.
Julia Weigl
The Abkhazian artist Sipa Labakhua has returned home after many years and now tours the country with his autobiographical puppet show. He tells of his own experiences, his flight, his father’s dreams – and collects more stories on his journeys: of Georgian peasants, Orthodox priests, Abkhazian nationalists, Syrian refugees and Russian hippies. The result is the poetic image of a society that couldn’t be more diverse and that is asking itself an essential question that concerns us all: How do you define the national and cultural identity of a country? Sipa Labakhua has a very original answer: He sees himself as a troubadour, his art as his country and his talent as his home.
Julia Weigl
Machini
Frank Mukunday, Trésor Tshibangu Tshamala
This homage to the Congolese city of Lubumbashi unfurls to become a critical journey, revealing fatal correlations of the global economy. We in the North play a certain role, too.
Machini
Animated Film
Belgium,
DR Congo
2019
10 minutes
subtitles:
English
German
Credits
Rosa Spaliviero, Ellen Meiresonne
Frank Mukunday, Trésor Tshibangu Tshamala
Francesco Nchikala
Frank Mukunday, Trésor Tshibangu Tshamala
Caroline Nugues-Bourchat, Frank Mukunday
Frank Mukunday, Trésor Tshibangu Tshamala
Frank Mukunday, Trésor Tshibangu Tshamala
David Douglas Masamuna
Einst verzauberten afrikanische Klänge den Alltag am Flussufer. Die Hommage von Frank Mukunday und Trésor Tshibangu Tshamala an ihre Stadt Lubumbashi entfaltet sich zu einer kritischen Reise und offenbart die fatalen Zusammenhänge der Weltökonomie. Auch wir im Norden spielen eine gewisse Rolle, wie die Schlusspointe aufrüttelnd anprangert. Mit recycelten rostigen Materialien, Steinen und Kreide positioniert sich das kongeniale Duo und widersetzt sich dem „Schwarzmarkt der Geschichte“ inhaltlich wie formal.
Nadja Rademacher
Nadja Rademacher
Marona’s Fantastic Tale
Anca Damian
Marona-Sara-Ana-the-Ninth is of noble descent, but not a princess. She was given her names by her master and mistress. The modern fairytale about a dog raises questions of identity.
Marona’s Fantastic Tale
Animated Film
Belgium,
France,
Romania
2019
92 minutes
subtitles:
English
German
Marona-Sara-Ana-the-Ninth may be of noble descent from her father’s side, graceful and beautiful, but she is no princess. She braves many an adventure in her short life: She learns acrobatics and magic tricks, temporarily ends up on the streets and even becomes a saviour in need. She is a bitch. Her names were given to her by a number of masters and mistresses. Anca Damian tells a touching story with imagination and humour.
An original, surrealist and childlike aesthetics, the combination of different animation techniques, strong stylisation and the gay colour palette make the protagonists particularly expressive. The striking backgrounds resemble witty and artistic wimmelbook pictures. The unusual angles make us discover the urban hustle and bustle from many perspectives simultaneously – with all senses. At the heart of the film, a realistic and critical portrait of urban society emerges that does not shy away from questioning our relationship to animals and thus to our values. Joy and sadness, farewells and beginnings are mutually dependent – even death is sensitively addressed. Damian’s modern fairytale is about identity and belonging. Full of musical and visual poetry and philosophical esprit, it celebrates – equally simply and extravagantly – the complexity of existence and the simplicity of happiness.
Nadja Rademacher
An original, surrealist and childlike aesthetics, the combination of different animation techniques, strong stylisation and the gay colour palette make the protagonists particularly expressive. The striking backgrounds resemble witty and artistic wimmelbook pictures. The unusual angles make us discover the urban hustle and bustle from many perspectives simultaneously – with all senses. At the heart of the film, a realistic and critical portrait of urban society emerges that does not shy away from questioning our relationship to animals and thus to our values. Joy and sadness, farewells and beginnings are mutually dependent – even death is sensitively addressed. Damian’s modern fairytale is about identity and belonging. Full of musical and visual poetry and philosophical esprit, it celebrates – equally simply and extravagantly – the complexity of existence and the simplicity of happiness.
Nadja Rademacher
Matilda
Irene Iborra Rizo, Eduard Puertas Anfruns
Who wants to sleep when there’s so much to discover by torch light in the room?
Matilda
Animated Film
Belgium,
France,
Spain
2018
7 minutes
subtitles:
_without dialogue / subtitles
At night, when little Matilda’s room gets dark, the great adventures begin: Who wants to sleep when there’s so much to discover by torch light in the room? In the play of light and shadow, she sees her toys from a very different angle. This puppet animation shows how Matilda overcomes her fear of the dark and gives free rein to her creativity.
Marie-Thérèse Antony
Marie-Thérèse Antony
My Name Is Clitoris
Daphné Leblond, Lisa Billuart-Monet
Why is their own body terra incognita for so many women? A skilful cinematic expedition to social causes and erogenous hot spots.
My Name Is Clitoris
Twelve young women explore an unknown continent: their body. More precisely, those parts of their body that are often shamefacedly referred to as “private parts. The protagonists speak quite naturally about the journey into their own sexuality, their emotions and (unexpected) discoveries, but also about fears and the feeling of moving into uncertain territory without assistance. Even though (or precisely because) they were all “sexually educated” at school or in the family, they had to laboriously acquire elementary knowledge about their own body themselves. Even today, the amount of available information about female anatomy and pleasure is in complete disproportion to that about male sexuality. The ignorance about the form, location and actual function of the clitoris which gives the film its title is only the tip of the iceberg that’s slowly being melted here.
The calm, trusting conversations open up a space for questions and reflections that we encounter far too rarely in our daily life, because talking about sexuality touches on taboos or because media stereotypes reinforce distorted images and wrong ideas. “My Name Is Clitoris” speaks a different language: It’s about the desire for (not just) sexual equality and the freedom to discover and satisfy one’s own pleasure.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
The calm, trusting conversations open up a space for questions and reflections that we encounter far too rarely in our daily life, because talking about sexuality touches on taboos or because media stereotypes reinforce distorted images and wrong ideas. “My Name Is Clitoris” speaks a different language: It’s about the desire for (not just) sexual equality and the freedom to discover and satisfy one’s own pleasure.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
Night Has Come
Peter Van Goethem
Film snippets from the Royal Belgian Film Archive – combined into a fascinating monologic discourse about individual and collective loss of memory and transience.
Night Has Come
According to recent medical findings, viruses can also cause a weakening or even loss of memory. Such an epidemic is the speculative narrative foundation of this film. The suspicion is uttered by the sonorous voice of an old man, who wakes up after having lost his memory in an unspecified incident and goes on a mental journey into his childhood. But the perspective soon widens to include collective life and conspiracy theories directed against the government – even questions about the last things.
The images illustrating this narrative were made between 1927 and 1998 and are now restored digital copies in the holdings of the Royal Belgian Film Archive. They cover a spectrum from home movies on the beach to the central iconic events of Brussels history, for example the Nazi deportations or the big fire in the “À l’innovation” department store in 1967. But art films, science films and documents of industrial history are also interwoven – with film aesthetics so homogenised that they are, out of their original contexts, convincingly integrated into the suggestively proposed new narrative logic, while always referencing the past, too.
Silvia Hallensleben
The images illustrating this narrative were made between 1927 and 1998 and are now restored digital copies in the holdings of the Royal Belgian Film Archive. They cover a spectrum from home movies on the beach to the central iconic events of Brussels history, for example the Nazi deportations or the big fire in the “À l’innovation” department store in 1967. But art films, science films and documents of industrial history are also interwoven – with film aesthetics so homogenised that they are, out of their original contexts, convincingly integrated into the suggestively proposed new narrative logic, while always referencing the past, too.
Silvia Hallensleben
Our Lucky Hours
Martine Deyres
A compilation of archive material from the Saint-Alban Hospital in France, where doctors and nurses tested a pioneering new way of dealing with mentally ill patients even before 1945.
Our Lucky Hours
Documentary Film
Belgium,
France,
Switzerland
2019
77 minutes
subtitles:
English
Credits
Alexandre Cornu
Martine Deyres
Olivier Brisson, Nicola Marinoni
Jean-Christophe Beauvallet, Dino Berguglia, Antoine-Marie Meert
Philippe Boucq, Catherine Catella, Martine Deyeres
Martine Deyeres, Anne Paschetta
Olivier Hespel, Marianne Roussy, Olivier Schwob
Between 1939 and 1945, 45,000 patients died in French mental institutions. There was only one place where the patients survived the euthanasia: the hospital in the remote village of Saint-Alban. In addition, the doctors, nursing staff and patients there worked with the residents of the village to hide a number of war refugees, resistance fighters and persecuted Jews and thus save them from certain death.
What made Saint-Alban so exceptional? During her research, director Martine Deyres found photos, home movies and sound recordings in the hospital archives. She uses this material to draw the portrait of an institution that was far ahead of its time. The patients were respected, integrated and individually supported. By working in the household or on the fields, they also contributed, especially during the war, to the fact that no one in Saint-Alban had to go hungry. There was a patient newspaper and various arts and crafts classes. Auguste Forestier’s wooden sculptures even became famous as “art brut”, when the painter Jean Dubuffet discovered the works of the Saint-Alban patient after the war. All this coalesces into a rousing plea for a respectful treatment of the mentally ill, which is more important than ever in an age of economic constrictions and strong normative tendencies.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
What made Saint-Alban so exceptional? During her research, director Martine Deyres found photos, home movies and sound recordings in the hospital archives. She uses this material to draw the portrait of an institution that was far ahead of its time. The patients were respected, integrated and individually supported. By working in the household or on the fields, they also contributed, especially during the war, to the fact that no one in Saint-Alban had to go hungry. There was a patient newspaper and various arts and crafts classes. Auguste Forestier’s wooden sculptures even became famous as “art brut”, when the painter Jean Dubuffet discovered the works of the Saint-Alban patient after the war. All this coalesces into a rousing plea for a respectful treatment of the mentally ill, which is more important than ever in an age of economic constrictions and strong normative tendencies.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
Our Territory
Mathieu Volpe
A journey into the light of southern Italy. Migrants work for starvation wages while vacationers enjoy themselves on the beach next door. The hunger for leisure, for life, and the small-big world in between.
Our Territory
Documentary Film
Belgium
2019
21 minutes
subtitles:
English
In grainy images of the southern Italian landscape, the director’s childhood memories merge with the present. Today, the region is populated not only by vacation-hungry families, but also by migrants working under precarious conditions. A city within the city, only without street names. The black-and-white images are reminiscent of Joris Ivens and Walker Evans. They tell stories of a gruelling daily grind and tough hierarchies in Mafia-like structures, but also of solidarity and departures.
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
Luc-Carolin Ziemann
That Which Does Not Kill
Alexe Poukine
An unagitated, performative stocktaking of the subject of rape. Alexe Poukine recovers the offence from the dark zone and lets victims and perpetrators speak.
That Which Does Not Kill
Credits
Cyril Bibas (CVB), Cécile Lestrade, Elise Hug (Alter Ego)
Alexe Poukine
Elin Kirschfink
Agnès Bruckert
Ada Leiris
Bruno Schweisguth
Conchita Paz, Epona Guillaume, Aurore Fattier, Marijke Pinoy, Marie Préchac, Sophie Sénécaut, Anne Jacob, Tristan Lamour, Noémie Boes, Maxime Maes, Yves-Marina Gnahoua, Tiphaine Gentilleau, Séverine Degilhage, Laurence Rosier
It’s well-established that the majority of sexualised violence doesn’t take place in the public sphere but in the seemingly protected realm of family, partnership and friends. This is also true of a young woman who was raped by a good friend on a private date. Her report was the occasion and basis of this film which interprets it first performatively, then analytically by women and men playing various roles.
In addition to the act itself, it addresses its consequences and how to deal with feelings of guilt, shame, paralysis and repression – but soon the performers’ own experiences as victims of perpetrators, too. In its directness and detail, speaking out is sometimes agonising for all participants. But talking and listening are the only chance to get hold of the phantoms and demons of the past and thus heal the wounds. Alexe Poukine’s differentiated and multi-faceted approach to an issue usually discussed in sensationalist terms offers us, the audience, a chance to dispassionately re-adjust our perspective on the act of rape.
Silvia Hallensleben
In addition to the act itself, it addresses its consequences and how to deal with feelings of guilt, shame, paralysis and repression – but soon the performers’ own experiences as victims of perpetrators, too. In its directness and detail, speaking out is sometimes agonising for all participants. But talking and listening are the only chance to get hold of the phantoms and demons of the past and thus heal the wounds. Alexe Poukine’s differentiated and multi-faceted approach to an issue usually discussed in sensationalist terms offers us, the audience, a chance to dispassionately re-adjust our perspective on the act of rape.
Silvia Hallensleben